Page 90 of The Summer Show
“Mom, call Thanos’s grandfather. Tell him to meet us at the hospital.” Not for the first time this summer, he scooped me up in his arms. I almost believed I’d make it. “It’s going to be okay, honey. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Ambulance,” I wheezed.
“This is faster.” There were more words after that, but they were Greek and rushed. With all my energy pouring into breathing, I tuned out ambient noises. Nothing registered until Nick slid me into the front seat of a car and buckled me in. Then I faded out, unaware of everything except the speed at which he was hurtling along Nera’s streets.
“Don’t run anyone over.”
“You’re worth the prison sentence.”
Time compressed, expanded, stood still. When the car—whose car was it, anyway?—slammed to a stop and the driver’s door banged, there was shouting. Nick was there, holding me against his chest, running for the doors.
They opened.
thirty-two
Nera’s hospital was small but efficient. As soon as I was in the door, they took me from Nick and placed me on a stretcher/bed combo.
They asked him something, and he said, “Oxi,” which I knew meant no. I knew in my heart that they had asked if he was family, and I wanted to tell them it was okay, that Nick could come with me, but before I could push words out, they had a mask over my nose and mouth, blowing sweet, cool oxygen into my lungs. Then that was replaced with the familiar medicinal scent of albuterol mixed with O2. Someone started an IV. I winced as the cannula slid into place.
The voices around me switched from Greek to English. They were soothing, competent.
I closed my eyes until the mist sputtered and the nurse removed the mask and took my vitals yet again.
Breathing came easier now, but my heart was galloping.
Then Mr. Roussos was there, and I remembered he was actually Doctor Roussos. He pulled up a swiveling stool and scooted up close to the bed and took the hand that wasn’t punctured.
“Were you trying to leave us, eh?”
I shook my head.
“Nikos told me what happened. He said your trigger is your mother. When she causes problems, you get asthma, yes?”
I nodded.
“Ah-pa-pa,” he said. “My mother is a difficult woman, too, but not as difficult as yours, I think.” He patted my hand. “Tonight you will stay here, okay? We will make sure you are stable, and I will prescribe you some new medicine so this does not happen again. A rescue inhaler is good for emergencies, but this time you had an emergency and it did not work, so we are going to try prevention, since you cannot avoid your mother if she is anything like a Greek mother. Unless of course you can avoid her.”
Avoid my mother. Three simple words. The execution was anything but simple. Deep down I was still the little girl who just wanted her mom to love her, even though adult me knew that would never happen. Mom was incapable of loving anything or anyone other than herself.
“Can I go no-contact with my mother?”
I was asking myself, more than anything.
“I do not know your history, but I know if a person makes you feel like this, if they threaten your life, then they are not someone you should have in your world. For your own safety it is okay to leave them in the past.”
“Can I call my dad?”
“He is in America?”
I nodded.
Doctor Roussos glanced around the room and located my crossbody bag, which was sitting at the foot of the bed. He brought it to me and held it open as I felt around for my phone. I clutched my phone to my chest like a talisman as a couple of smiling nurses came to tell me they were taking me upstairs to my own room now. Doctor Roussos squeezed my hand, released it. He waved as they rolled me away.
“Does he work here?” I asked one of the nurses.
“Not anymore,” she said. “Doctor Roussos retired years ago. You must be someone important if he came here to see you.”
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